


Reflexes

by Spot_On60



Category: Suits (TV), Suits - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 00:06:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spot_On60/pseuds/Spot_On60
Summary: A new man has come into Mike's life.It's a sad one.Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings means read at your own risk.





	1. Chapter 1

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

 

 

 

**I choose not to use archive warnings**

 

"Hey Mike?"

"What are you doing up so early?"

"Have some things I want to get a start on."

"Hang on." Mike pushed at the duvet, but Harvey's hand silenced his own. Mike protested, "I'll only be a few minutes. Don't have court or appointments. I can be up and ready in a few minutes."

"Go back to sleep. You have a couple hours before you have to get up."

"Really. I won't take long. I want to go with you."

Harvey skimmed the backs of his fingers down Mike's cheek, watching the motion as it drew down to the stubble along his jaw. His eyes shifted to Mike's forming those crinkles his younger husband loved so well as a smile played across his lips.

Mike looked up into the brown eyes, shifting his gaze from one to the other. He watched as they moved up to follow the hand now carding through his hair. The sensation of Harvey's warmth along his temple feeding into his scalp soothed him.

Harvey murmuring, "You can't come with me. Something I have to do alone. Sleep now. I'll send Ray back for you a little later." Another touch lulled him.

He was relaxing down, deep into his pillow when Harvey's lips pressed to his forehead. He whispered, "I love you."

Harvey whispered in return, "I know you do," and was gone when Mike's alarm sounded what seemed only minutes later.

He stumbled and trudged his way through his morning routine. Coffee was waiting in the coffee maker's carafe having brewed during his shower as per the timer. Standing at the kitchen counter he peered out the floor to ceiling windows as he sipped the restorative potion. His eyes skipping over the upper reaches of real estate brushing the sky in Manhattan.

He came to realize he was touching his face where Harvey had stroked him in what had become a half forgotten dream. He checked the time and finished his coffee. Ray would be downstairs in ten minutes. Just enough time to check he had all of last night's work stowed in his briefcase.

The case was of butter soft leather stretched over a hinged frame. It was the same caramel color as his satchel, which was now retired in a place of honor. It hung in their shared closet with his long unused skinny ties and the suit he wore that fateful day their lives changed at the Chilton.

  
Harvey had given him the briefcase as a birthday gift. Upon seeing what he called Mike's shrine he had chided him for keeping the mementos. Though he couldn't explain why at the moment it happened, Mike had choked as his eyes threatened to well hearing the reproach in Harvey's voice.

To his credit, Harvey said nothing more when Mike went silent. Sometimes he managed to say exactly the wrong thing. He didn't truly understand Mike's need to hold onto the things Harvey considered a waste of space. Yet he wasn't blind. He could see without intent he had touched a nerve. A nerve much like the one he'd dug into when he groused about discovering Mike's beloved panda nestled on a shelf amongst his books and LPs.

Harvey would be the first to admit he wasn't particularly well schooled on some of the finer points of this thing he found himself in, a relationship. More pointedly, a marriage. A modern and adult marriage, fraught with the land mines that came with the status change. It was no longer "me." He had been transformed into one half of "we."

It only took several seconds for Mike to halt the quiver of his lip and blink away the moisture in his eye. "I'm going to ignore your lack of attention to detail. I'll pretend you didn't notice they are stowed away in the same corner of the closet your father's tapes are in."

Harvey had opened his mouth instinctively to provide a rebuttal then closed it again as the words sunk in. Mike didn't have to pretend he didn't notice. He really didn't notice. What an idiot. How did he not recognize that without being told? Wordlessly he told Mike he was sorry by enfolding him. A kiss was placed just behind his ear before Harvey stepped back and gave him an apologetic grin.

  
Mike was holding the briefcase as he descended in the elevator from the penthouse condo to street level. "Good morning," he offered to the two men at the concierge desk.

"Good morning sir," they returned.

"Still haven't been knighted. The name is Mike."

He was met with them both smiling as they said, "Yes sir."

Striding across the front walk he rolled his eyes as he watched Ray open the door for him. "Morning, Ray."

Grandly gesturing to the open door with a sweep of his hand he smiled, "Good morning, Mike."

"You're embarrassing me." He could actually feel a little blushing heat rise up his neck. "I told you you don't have to open the door for me."

"Yes, you have told me that," he said while handing Mike a to go cup of coffee. "Until you give me a decisive order to cease and desist I will continue to perform this small gesture for you."

"You're impossible," Mike grumbled as he climbed in the back seat.

"Harvey asked me to take good care of you and that is what I'm doing." He hurried around to the driver's seat, clicked his seatbelt and looked in the rear view. "What'll it be? Music today?"

"No, let's listen to NPR."

With a tap to the dash the car was filled with Morning Edition's news of the world.

  
~~~~~~~~

  
"I insist you come along." Louis was having none of Mike's protests.

"I need to go over Regent/Caldwell. I cleared my desk so I could concentrate and..."

"I know for a fact nothing more is happening with that until next Wednesday. You don't need to start it tonight. Put your jacket on and come with me."

"Louis..."

"This is team building, Mike. This is as important as sharing coffee and prunies with your coworkers."

"Surprisingly, I can't argue with that. Not because it's right, but because I wouldn't know where to start."

"Yeah, well, learn from the master. Move it."

"I need to call Ray."

"No you don't. We're taking my car. He's waiting downstairs."

"I still need to call him to tell him not to come like we planned."

"Well hurry up. We don't have all night."

"Louis, it's 5:36. We literally have all night. Just give me a minute. I'll be right behind you."

  
Louis regaled the little group with a litany of benefits one could derive from mudding. The assortment of Junior and Senior Partners listened intently. One could go so far as to say they listened with interest. Being employees of Specter-Litt it did in fact go without saying there wasn't a fool amongst them. It was a rare moment when a named partner of a firm the caliber of Specter-Litt joined the masses for an unscheduled evening of comaraderie. No one would sniff at any topic the man may ramble on about. Not to mention he made it clear he considered the evening work related and he would be paying for the plates of appetizers plus the bar tab.

Mike stood on the fringe, the last outpost of the group. Bellied up to the bar with one foot on the rail he drank from his bottle of craft beer and smiled at the appropriate times. He hoped against hope he wouldn't be drawn in to comment on the subject.

"Bet you've heard tales about mudding more than a few times, eh?" Except "about" came out sounding more like "aboot." It was Eric Hagen, the most junior of the Senior Partners. After a couple of cocktails his speech often reverted back to his Minnesotan roots. He leaned on the bar between Mike and Louis' rapt audience.

"Worse," Mike replied. "Years ago he took me with him."

Eric laughed. "How was it?"

"Ya know? It's a part of my past I prefer not to talk about. To this day the mere mention of mudding gives me the willies."

"I'll be sure to keep it oot of any future conversations."

"Minnesota or North Dakota?"

Eric laughed again, this time in an attempt to cover a touch of embarrassment, "Minnesota." He took a sip of cocktail. "Give me a couple of drinks and my Weejun breaks out." He was now mindful of covering his regional accent.

"They say with the advent of television and movies some accents have died off. People aren't as fully immersed in them the way they had been in the past," Mike noted.

"I can see that. Being here in New York I try to keep it at bay. People tend to hear a lowered intelligence in an accent."

"You think so?"

"I know so." He eyed Mike's progress in tearing the label off his beer bottle. "I don't think we've ever been formally introduced. I'm Eric. Eric Hagen."

"Mike. Mike Specter Ross."

"Your name's on the wall and all the letterhead."

Mike found himself smiling along. "Then you should also already know I'm not _that_ Specter."

"I know it, but does everyone? Would think that could come in handy." It was said without malice and Mike played along.

"It only has been, at least obviously, a couple of times. I tend to still just go by Ross for the most part."

"Why Specter Ross?"

Mike fingered his wedding band. "I...I'm not following you."

"Why Specter Ross and not Ross Specter."

"Oh, that." Mike's smile broadened at a memory. "It was Harvey's idea. He said Ross Specter sounded like an unreliable time portal."

Eric guffawed. "What does that even mean?"

"He said it was like, 'Aw man. The rosspecter is broken again.'"

Eric was laughing again, "Now that's funny."

"That's pure Harvey." He took another pull off his beer.

"But he stayed with just Specter?"

"He replaced the 'R' in his initial with Ross."

Eric's brow furrowed. "What was it, Richard?"

"Reginald."

"Who names their kid Harvey Reginald?!"

"I know. Right? Well Lily and Gordon did."

"With a moniker like that, no wonder his name has become legend. Needed to live up to it, eh?"

"No kidding." Mike surprised himself when he noted he was still smiling along. Eric was, without question, one of the easiest people to talk with he had encountered in a very long time. Nonetheless, he checked his watch. "Time for me to get going." He dug in a pocket and opened his wallet. Pulling two twenties from the leather billfold he waved to the bartender.

"Another one?"

"No. I'm done. But keep an eye on my friends, will ya?" He gestured back and to the side with his head as he palmed the bills into the bartender's hand.

"Will do. And thank you."

Mike took the last swig of his beer just as he saw Ray step into the bar. He waved to the driver and held up an index finger to signal one minute. Ray nodded before slipping back out the door.

Mike noted Eric had followed his gaze. "My ride's here," he said rather apologetically. "Need to say goodnight to the mud master." He had circled around Eric to tap Louis on his shoulder. "Hey Louis?"

Louis was smiling wide. Truly enjoying himself. It warmed Mike. For a man with so many demons it was a pleasure to see him having a good time. "You're not leaving. Stay awhile."

"No, I gotta go. Ray's here. He's waiting outside."

"Tell him to come in. We're just getting started."

"I would imagine that's the last thing he wants to do. He's got a family to get home to."

"So send him home and call a cab later," Louis pressed.

"It's nice to be wanted, but I really need to go. I'm having breakfast with Oliver in the morning."

Louis moved in closer, "I'm having such a great time. I want to share it with a friend."

Mike huffed a laugh, "Look around, Louis. Look at the people that are here. If you let them, if you open up a little about yourself, I'll bet you can walk out of here with a new friend...or two...or four."

"Don't push it."

"Or one." Mike was smiling. For all of Louis' brusqueness, he was disproportionately sensitive. His feelings ran fully all the way down to the tips of his toes.

"You're not a kid anymore are you, Mike?"

The other man only shrugged a shoulder.

"Go home, Mike. I'm going to go open up about myself. Hopefully when I walk into the office again I'll stop by your office to tell you about my new friend."

"There's no time like the present to get started. Goodnight Louis. I'm glad I came."

Louis' gaze shifted to the man standing a few feet from Mike. "You! What are you looking at?"

Eric looked around him to see who Louis was barking at only to conclude it was him. He opened his mouth to reply, but wasn't able to begin when Mike deflected for him.

"I don't think 'open up' means what you think it means." Louis huffed. "You know Eric." Louis' face remained crunched. Mike explained further, "We were just talking at the bar."

Eric spoke up. "Just wanted to let you know I was leaving too. And to thank you for the nice evening."

"Yeah. Okay. You're welcome." He looked off to the side, obviously put out at having to be socially acceptable.

Mike barely shook his head as the firm's named partner barreled back into the conversation he'd been having when Mike approached. He turned to Eric and asked, "Where you going? Maybe we could drop you along the way."

"That's nice of you to offer, but I'm down in the Village. I'll grab a cab."

"Ray lives in Dumbo. He can drop you on the way home."

"It's not necessary."

"Not necessary at all, but not any trouble."

"You sure?"

"Tell ya what. I'll double check with Ray first."

"Ray's your driver?"

"He's Harvey's driver."

The two made their way towards the door when their path was blocked by a redhead. "Where are you boys going?"

"Home," they answered in unison before looking at each other and cracking up.

"What _are_ you two up to?"

"Not a thing, Donna. Gonna see if Ray can drop Eric here off in the Village on his way home."

"Sounds terribly uneventful to me."

As Mike was saying, "It is," Eric was saying, "Me too."

Mike hadn't caught it, but Donna heard it loud and clear. "You two run along." They pressed forward with Donna moving aside. As Mike passed she tugged his sleeve. When he looked back she had her pinkie and thumb held up alongside her head and mouthed, "Call me." Mike furrowed a brow, lightly shaking his head he mouthed, "What?" Donna pointed at Eric's back. Mike just rolled his eyes and hurried to catch up at the establishment's door.

  
"Have a good night," Mike said before pushing the car door home.

Aside from Eric initially thanking both he and Ray profusely for the ride, they traveled through the darkened city streets in comfortable silence all the way to the Manhattan high rise Mike called home. The evening concierge tipped his head in greeting as Mike waved. He stepped into the elevator and slid the key card that allows access to the uppermost two floors.

At the top of the world, or at least the top of this particular skyscraper, Mike had entered through the front door and was walking down the hallway of the condo. He took a detour into the kitchen for a bottle of water. After cracking it open he drank down half the contents while fishing out the coffee beans from the cabinet to pour in the crazy complicated coffee maker in preparation for the morning brew. The one Mike was convinced had secret settings for _pick up drycleaning_ and _decorate Christmas tree._

Shrugging off his jacket he didn't think he would ever get over the jolt he sometimes felt walking into the bedroom to a still made bed, no Harvey in sight. He changed from his suit to sleep pants and a tee, brushing his teeth and washing his face along the way.

Climbing into bed was when it first hit him how tired he was. It was probably best Louis had insisted on him leaving work. Doubtful he would have gotten much done. Though only 9:30, he hugged a pillow to his chest and was asleep in minutes.

At some point the pillow had been replaced by Harvey's warm body. "When did you get home?"

"Not long ago. I didn't mean to wake you," Harvey whispered in the night.

"I'm glad you did," Mike said sleepily.

"How was your night?"

"Okay. Would have been better if I spent it with you."

"I know. Mine too."

"You know Eric Hagen? Senior Partner at the firm."

"Probably. What about him?"

"We were talking for a little while. Gave him a ride home. Or I should say Ray gave him a ride home."

"What's he like?"

"Affable."

Harvey chuckled low.

"I want to go out with you, Harvey. Just you. Just the two of us. No clients. No one from work tagging along. It's been so long."

"I'd like that too. You know it's going to be a long time before that happens."

"I know," Mike sighed.

"Get some sleep, Rookie."

"You do realize I'm not a rookie anymore, don't you?"

"You'll always be a rookie to me. That alright with you?"

"Yeah. ..... Will you be here when I get up?"

"You know the answer to that one."

"I guess so. You're the one who taught me to never ask a question you don't know the answer to."

Harvey snugged him and kissed the crown of his head.

"Wish you didn't have to go. Wish you could stay here so we could spend the day together in bed."

"Me too."

"Will you call me?"

"If you like."

"No 'As you wish'?"

"Look. If I had wanted a princess, you're the last person I would have married."

Mike chuckled as Harvey planted one on his forehead.

"Get some sleep, Mike."

  
~~~~~~~~

 

Notes:

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	2. Chapter 2

True to his word, Harvey was gone when Mike woke in the morning. He padded barefoot around the condo with his coffee doing this and that. He had left assorted paperwork from assorted cases on the dining table over the last week or so. He stuffed it all in an accordion folder. It would go to the office and be pawned it off on his Admin, Marsha, to file. The mail had everything important removed but was piling up in the basket on the corner of Harvey's desk. Took him no time to flip through, confirming it was indeed all junk he could dispose of. He bundled his dry cleaning, making it ready to drop off on the way to the office come Monday.

He would go into the office this day, after breakfast with Oliver even though it was Saturday. With Harvey gone there wasn't much to do at home. Besides, he really did want to get to work on the Regent/Caldwell merger. Saturday at the office was reasonably quiet and would no doubt be more so with many whom he might have otherwise seen destined to suffer hangovers upon waking. He wondered briefly if Louis was sporting a new friend and whom it might be.

 

Wiping his mouth now finished with his plate, Oliver asked earnestly, "How ya doin', Mike?"

"I'm good. Busy."

"Busy making money for millionaires?"

Mike huffed a laugh. There had been a time when a crack like that out of Oliver could set his teeth to grinding. These days it was lobbed and caught goodnaturedly.

"Still selling bridges to tourists?"

"Hey, don't knock it. Real estate law has given Gloria and me a very comfortable life together."

Mike smiled around his coffee cup. They both still volunteered at the legal clinic but on different schedules. Hadn't collaborated on a case in years.

"Been a long time since we talked. Did I tell you Gloria's expecting again?"

"No, you didn't. Congratulations, man. That's great."

"Thanks. We're excited."

"Girl? Boy? Do you know?"

"Rounding things out. It's another girl." Mike thought Oliver's face may break from the width of his smile alone.

"So this makes two girls and two boys, right?"

"Yep. We're done after this one. She's due in three weeks."

"It's good to see you so .... content." Oliver's grin was contagious giving Mike no control over his own. "I remember how nervous you were over the first one."

"With three already under the belt, ya know." Oliver shrugged a shoulder and took a sip of his brew, eyes floating toward the huge plate window of the coffee shop. "With the first one, all she had to do was sneeze and we were debating if getting her to the ER was the right thing to do. This one? She's going to be the knife juggling baby. I've got this whole Alfred E. Neuman thing going on."

"What? Me worry?" they laughed out together.

On the sidewalk they gave each other a heartfelt hug.

"It was good to see you," Mike said sincerely.

"Yeah, here too." Oliver smiled for a moment then added, "You should come for dinner one night."

"I don't know. Won't that be a bit much for Gloria?"

"You kidding? She'd love it. When she got up yesterday she said she had another day of the the same old same ole to look forward to. She's getting stir crazy. Says she's sick of wearing waddling clothes and not being able to go far 'cause she needs to pee all the time."

"You talk to her about it. If she says yes just let me know when. I can usually make myself free with a couple days notice."

"Okay. I'll call you soon. It really was good seeing you Mike. You take care of yourself."

"I will."

Oliver headed south to run his weekend errands. Mike caught a cab north to the office. He watched out the window as the bustle of the city took on its weekend cloak. The biggest tell? There were fewer suits and more Lycra infused ensembles out and about.

He dropped the accordion folder of odds and ends on Marsha's desk scrawling a note for her. He thought come Monday he would need to pick up a blueberry muffin, her favorite, as a thank you. Harvey would have given him a hard time had he known. He could hear as clearly as if he were standing there.

"Isn't that why she gets paid to come here everyday? To make your life better?"

Mike would tell him, "That's all well and good, but what really makes my life better is when you come," and watch a flame rise in his cheeks. He still smiled as he thought to himself, who would have guessed how easy it was for Mike to make Harvey blush?

It was as though he had woken from a dream. He couldn't actually remember taking the steps, but he was now looking out over the city from Harvey's office. One of the treasured balls found its way into his hands as he had wound around the daydream.

"You made it in too."

Mike had startled, almost dropping the basketball upon hearing the voice behind him. He spun to find Eric standing in the doorway of the office. "Oh, hey. Yeah I have a merger just getting off the ground. Was going to start on it last night, but Louis... Well you know." He placed the ball back in its cradle. "Anyone else here?"

"Random person here and there. I really just came in for this," he said holding up a rich brown, formed-leather camera case.

Mike's curiosity received a nudge, "Is that a Retina Reflex?"

"Yeah," Eric seemed surprised. "How do you know about these?"

"Have one at home. My grammy gave it to me. It was my grandfather's."

"My dad gave me this. It was his father's. You just have the camera or are you into photography?"

"I'm very interested."

"Love to see some of your work," Eric sounded excited.

"I said I'm interested. Didn't say I was any good," he laughed.

"The photos in your office, did you take any of those?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Really. Which ones?"

"All of them. At least the ones on the walls."

"I've admired those. You're being modest. That's some really nice work."

"Thanks."

"Anything in here yours?"

"Only that one," Mike said pointing to a framed photo on a wall by the basketballs.

"What about this one?" Eric asked noting a giant photo featuring a boy watching a woman paint a giant whimsical canvas. "Is that a duck?"

"No. It's actually an alligator. And no I didn't take it. Don't think I was born yet. That's Harvey and his mom."

Eric had stepped in the office when he caught sight of the picture, but was backing out again. He wasn't comfortable in the space, felt like he was intruding. "So I'm going to get out of your hair. I need to pick up some film and dig up the lenses for this." He waggled the camera.

"Shooting something in particular?"

"I do a lot of black and white cityscapes. My mom was in last weekend and said all my photos are harsh and she thinks I maybe taking myself a little too seriously. She's probably right. Anyhow. Thought I'd go to the Conservatory Garden and get some color floral shots for her."

"I bet she'll like that. Doing that today?"

"Naw. Getting everything ready. Going tomorrow. Hey! Why don't you join me?"

"Oh. I.... I....don't know about that."

"It'll be fun. We can compare finished products."

Mike didn't really know what to say.

Eric realized he'd backed him into a corner, forcing an answer. The lawyer in him coming out. He eased off, "Tell ya what. I'll be outside the men's room at ten. If you can make it, that would be great."

"And if I can't?"

"That's fine too. You have film for your camera? I can pick up extra."

"No. I mean yes. I just got some for it a couple of weeks ago."

"Okay. Then maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. I'll see how today goes. If I get enough done...." he trailed off as he too crossed the threshold of the office. They each headed in a different direction like Mike and Oliver had earlier. This time it was Eric off to run errands.

Mike went to his office sitting on the sofa to read the merger prospectus. He wasn't able to concentrate though. The invitation kept creeping to mind. He decided he wouldn't go. It wasn't like he was in desperate need of company. There, decision made. He went back to his reading.

No one would have guessed he had superior comprehension skills judging by the previous half hour. His mind continually wandered the paths of the gardens in Central Park. What could it hurt to join someone with the same hobby as his?

He would go. Harvey would understand. It's no different than him taking off for a ballgame with his college buddy. There, decision made. He went back to his reading.

It crept into his mind he really didn't need to make a decision right away. He could wait until Sunday morning. See how he felt about it then. Eric had left it completely up to him. No pressure. So that's what he'd do. Put it off until morning. Few conundrums couldn't be handily set aside with a healthy shot of procrastination. There, decision not made.

This time when he went back to his reading he forged on with determination. He actually plowed through the prospectus; the unabridged mission statements; managerial hierarchies and the profiles of those concerned; and every corner of the two companies' websites. He set to memory their balance statements and previous year's tax returns. Instead of bogging him down, any thoughts of spending the day in fresh air and autumnal sunshine taking pictures spurred him on to get through as much as he could.

Home a little after eleven, he had to chuckle to himself. Stayed at work later on a Saturday night than he did having drinks the night before. He had gone directly to the cabinet holding his various cameras and photographic equipment, digging out a variety of objects.

He sat on the sofa playing with the Retina. It was a beauty. He had pulled it from the back of the cabinet months prior, telling himself he should go wander the city shooting along the way as he had done so many times before. It had been close to two years since he made time for it, made time for himself.

He blew the attached lens with canned air and confirmed the neck strap was still solid. He took it to the interior bathroom with lights off and a towel placed along the lower edge of the door to load the old fashioned roll of film. Doing it this way gave one or two more shots on the roll. Back in the living room he buffed the leather of the case and turned to the small accessory case. It held a minimal amount of extras. Just enough to manage on a day out. He examined that neck strap as well.

Also on the table was the Nikon D810 Harvey presented to him three Christmases prior. It came in a custom, multi-level case filled with lenses ranging from standard to effects to telephoto. There were light meters; lens cleaners and cloths; screwdrivers and a mini wrench set. He always marveled at the spider legged tripod that collapsed, telescoped and folded down to a fraction of its size. The case held anything one could possibly want for use with the camera, one of Nikon's top shelf models.

The case itself was a retro attaché in style, the type carried by so many diplomats in reruns of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Despite all the toys contained within, the case in itself was his favorite part of the package. When opened, its inside lid was decoupaged with a wallpaper consisting of overlapping and crisscrossed strips of photo booth photos of he and Harvey hamming it up for the camera.

It had been months after he received the case before it came to light Harvey himself had done the decoupage. Mike couldn't help the smile that crept along his face when he considered Harvey, the great litigator, the best of the best closers, sitting at the dining room table performing this arts and crafts project, tongue no doubt held between teeth in concentration. He had squashed the urge to ask if he would be stenciling the bathrooms next.

Thinking of Eric, Mike knew he'd seen him here and there around the office, but never paid much mind like many other members of the staff. Not an unattractive man by any stretch, Mike huffed to himself. Obviously he'd been otherwise occupied. Rachel, before she'd had enough of his blind do-gooding at all costs and accepted the job with Jessica in Chicago. She had grown weary of being Mike's moral compass. Then there was Harvey, who moved in like a predator as soon as she was gone, telling him he wasn't letting anyone else lure Mike's attention nor affections away from him again.

He had left the equipment in a row on the coffee table and was feeling like he would doze while channel surfing when his cell phone rang.

"Harvey. I'm so happy you called."

"Sounds like you thought I wouldn't."

"It's getting late and I hadn't heard from you."

"Told you I would call. What have you been doing?"

"Spent the whole day and evening at the office. I'm starting on that new merger I told you about. Got any advice for me?"

"You don't need my advice anymore. You're becoming better at this than I ever was."

"Oh bullshit. That's not true."

"Believe what you want. Have plans for tomorrow?"

"Matter of fact I do. Remember me talking about Eric Hagen?"

"Yeaaah? What about him?"

"Turns out he's a photographer. I'm meeting him at Conservatory Gardens to shoot some film."

"You're going on a date?"

"No! It's not like that at all."

"Relax, Rookie. I'm happy to hear you're getting out with your camera."

"He has a Retina. You know. Like my grandfather's camera."

"Sounds like you were meant for each other."

"No. You and I were meant for each other. This isn't a problem for you, is it Harvey? I don't have to go."

"Mike. Stop it. You need to start getting out there again. You and your camera. I want you to go enjoy yourself."

"You sure?"

"Positive." There was a brief pause before he added, "All I want is for you to be happy. Deep down, you know that. So please, go be happy."

"I love you so much."

"I know you do. Wish I was there to kiss you goodnight."

"Me too."

"I'll call again."

"Okay."

Not long afterward Mike's head lolled to the side. His neck tight from falling asleep where he sat. Waking with a bit of a start he stumbled his way to bed. Not bothering with routine he stripped off his clothes at bedside and climbed under the covers on Harvey's side. His last thought was one of disappointment. The pillows on this side of the bed were losing Harvey's scent.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

"Good morning!" Eric looked so genuinely pleased to see him.

"Hey."

"And there's your beauty. May I see it? Oh and you have the accessory case too."

Mike couldn't help smiling from Eric's infectious excitement. "Let's sit here for a few minutes," Mike suggested motioning to a nearby bench.

"You show me yours I'll show you mine." Eric was sitting as he held his camera in one hand and slipped the neck strap over his head. Mike was mirroring him halfway down the length of the bench. Eric had Mike's camera open in seconds after the exchange. "Cool," he nodded appreciatively. "It's an original."

"Yours too," Mike now had the case opened on the camera he held. "What's this?" He had the back of the camera pointed up as he thumbed a small inscription plate attached there.

Eirik Arvid Hægen  
With Many Thanks  
Nat'l Geo Soc  
1957

"My grandfather was a professional. It was given to him by the National Geographical Society when he retired."

"Didn't know photographers retired."

"He didn't completely. But he did stop traveling. He and Gramma decided they'd had enough of being on the road so much. They bought a lake house in Minnesota, north of Minneapolis where their home base had been and kids were living." He was looking through the view finder as he spoke. "Bet you'd like it there."

"I don't know. I'm city born and bred." Mike was turning the camera he held about in his hands.

"My parents still own it. It's along Mille Lacs Lake. Old time summer cottage that was winterized." The camera now rested on his lap held securely with both hands like the treasure he knew it to be. "It's loaded with his old photos. And his darkroom? I'm like a kid on a candy high every time I go in there. I was named for him."

"Wait. Your name is Eirik Arvid and you were laughing about Harvey Reginald??"

He was laughing again now. "It's what made me feel I had the license."

"Guess you got a point there," Mike said without thinking. Sorry the second it came out of his mouth he looked to Eric who burst into guffaws.

Mike relaxed hearing the peals of laughter. "You don't spell your name like this."

"Naw. Gave up on it years ago. Outside of Minneapolis, Norway and Lake Woebegone no one knew what to do with it. They either spelt it wrong or didn't know how to pronounce it." He held Mike's camera out and they once again exchanged. Slipping the strap over his neck he said, "Come on. There are some florals over there I wanted to shoot."

The gardens were as alive in fall color as they were in the spring. Instead of the bright pastels of the earlier season the pathways and flower beds were awash in vibrant warm tones of rich reds, golds, and oranges all countered with bold bright greens in sharp contrast. It was a gold mine of photographic opportunities.

The two men were lost in their individual ministrations until Eric raised his head away from his viewfinder. "Mike."

Busy focusing on a spray of mums twisting the lens until the bullseye within aligned and the image came clear he only grunted, "Hmm?"

"Mike, look up."

When he did his breath hitched at the exquisite composition that met him. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes wide. It was when Eric saw how the dusty blue sweater he wore set off the crystal blue of his eyes. Eric's breath hitched just a bit as well.

Together they raised their cameras and began clicking away like a pair of paparazzi. They moved around each other in a dance, occasionally dropping to a knee or taking an eye off the viewfinder to look for an until that moment unexplored angle. Eric lowered his Kodak first. Content to observe as Mike continued clicking away.

A smile played on his lips as he watched a kaleidoscope of expressions pass across Mike's face. The surrealistic moment came to a jarring halt as Mike moved to his right and his platinum wedding band glowed softly in the morning light. The smile left Eric's face as he felt a sinking in his chest and his eyes focused downward to the slate walkway.

Eric was still gazing down when Mike said, "I need to reload. You done? Gonna sit on that bench."

Glancing up as Mike strode down the cathedral-like walk, Eric paused to watch him sit. As he dug through his accessory kit for another roll of 35mm Eric again took a couple of shots. Hearing the click of the shutter Mike called without looking up, "I'll be done in just a minute here and get out of the way."

Peering through the classic camera, focusing in on the handsome man in his scope he said more to himself than loud enough for Mike, "You're not in my way." He snapped another picture of Mike in his blue sweater contrasted so perfectly against the fall foliage.

Two hours later they had moved from the gardens and were wandering the park. Mike noted Eric shot just about every dog passing by, not to mention the occasional squirrel. They had wound their way around to the Balto statue, an impressive bronze commemorating the lead dog of the final sprint team delivering diphtheria antitoxin to Nome, Alaska in 1925.

"How about some lunch?"

Mike looked around himself, as though trying to find an escape. It wasn't a conscious act. More of a reflex. "I should probably get going. I hadn't planned on spending so much time."

"Then we've run through your lunch. Come on. I think we can get hotdogs in or around the zoo. We can eat them on our way out."

Mike thought Eric had such an easy manner. He was easy to be with. There was a word floating in the periphery of his consciousness - affable.

Walking with a hotdog each Mike commented, "I think you took a shot of every dog we passed."

"I grew up with dogs. Always had one or four around. Haven't had one since I went to college. Think things are finally going to settle enough to think about visiting a shelter. How about you?"

"No. I never had pets."

"Never?"

Mike had taken a bite of his hotdog and only shook his head.

"I was talking to my sister about it the other day. She said I should get a cat."

Mike couldn't swallow fast enough. "How do you feel about Louis?"

"Uhhhh....I don't know. Why?"

"Louis _looooves_ cats." Mike looked upward trying to come up with words that could truly express Louis' affinity for the creatures.

"Really? I don't know if I would have pegged him as..."

"Absolutely bat shit crazy for them?"

Eric was laughing and Mike felt a little pang over how much he was beginning to enjoy the sound.

"So what do I do with this information?"

"If you're serious about getting a cat, you need to understand the power you will hold in your hands." Mike was laughing too. "It's not for the faint of heart. You will, after all, become one of his most favorite people. Think you can manage that?" Then leaning in conspiratorially, "You man enough to be one of Louis' favorite people?"

"I don't know. You tell me. You're already one of them." He was smirking proudly.

He looked Eric up and down and said, "Each experience is unique. I think you'll do just fine," before he turned to start walking again, battling a smug smile. He was enjoying himself.

"What's with him anyway?" Eric asked. "I avoided him as a Junior Partner, but I really can't keep that up now, can I?"

"Louis? He's not so bad. He's really difficult to get to know. He's .... he's one of a kind. Don't let the bluster fool you into thinking he's an idiot. He's a financial genius. Besides if you decide on a cat or not, the other way to Louis' heart is to let him shine. If you need help reading what's under or between the numbers, Louis is your man. But don't insult him. Don't ask him to figure something out you can do yourself. He's not stupid and he's on constant alert for insincerity. But if you have a hard one and get stuck, or if you would feel better having someone else looking at your numbers, go to him."

"I get the impression he's incredibly insecure. Like he wants to be someone else."

"Maybe," Mike remained neutral. It wasn't for him to say Louis not only loved him, but in a way always wanted to be Harvey.

"Donna?"

"What about her?"

"She seems to know virtually everything. Can't figure out how she does it."

"She's a master at reading signs, picking up tells. She can extrapolate the meaningful where most others only see the inconsequential." Like with Louis he held back. He didn't mention she was quite good at keeping a straight face when blindsided and could bluff her way into having someone give her exactly the key information she hadn't been in possession of moments before. He kept her superpower to himself. As with Louis, it wasn't his story to tell.

They had almost reached the edge of the park. "This was fun, Mike. Maybe we could do it again, in another setting."

"Yeah. That would be great." Then measured himself, "Maybe .... sometime." It registered with him it was becoming automatic to hedge with Eric.

"We're going to have to compare shots," Eric remembered his suggestion from the day before.

"Sure. I'll drop off the film this week. I'll let you know when it's back. Don't know how long. It's been years since I've used this camera and needed to have the film developed." He fidgeted with the case. "Don't even know if Wolf Camera does it anymore."

"No need to find out. I have a darkroom. You're welcome to do it yourself," Eric offered.

"I haven't worked in a darkroom since college."

"What do you say we do both of ours next weekend?"

"Oh. I don't want to put you out..."

"You won't be."

"It's nice of you to offer, I'm actually tied up next weekend. There's a project for Harvey I've been putting off. Donna said she'd give me a hand."

"Well maybe another time."

"Yeah, maybe. Well, I'm going to head home," he signaled in the direction of the line of yellow awaiting fairs.

"Thanks for coming along with."

"Thanks for suggesting it. I'll see you later. I mean tomorrow. I'll probably see you tomorrow."

"See you then." Eric watched after him as he crossed the wide expanse of pavement to the line of cabs. Expecting him to open a door and turn back to smile or wave he was surprised to see Mike skip between two cabs, carefully crossing traffic to the other side of the street. Intrigued he followed his progress to a building a block down. Mike turned in toward the entrance first stopping to greet an older woman with a requisite Yorkie on a leash before disappearing behind the doors.

The night he caught a ride home Eric hadn't paid much attention to where Mike was let off. He was too busy enjoying the luxury of the heated leather seats. Looking at the building now, he scanned upward noting to himself there were obviously some perks to being the husband of one Harvey Reginald, no, Harvey _Ross_ Specter. He returned to the hack stand climbing in the back of the first cab in line for a ride to his home in the Village. Smiling as he looked back on his day with the first person he felt so at ease with in so very long despite the understandable trepidation. He was finally able to put a clear voice to the song that had been filtering in the background of his thoughts all day. Lou Reed's take on the city's weekenders lilted along his ears. He hummed along thinking this too had been a [perfect day](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9wxI4KK9ZYo).

 

"How'd it go?"

"It was nice getting out there again."

"Having someone to bounce things off of makes a difference."

"He has a darkroom. Asked if I wanted to develop my film there next weekend."

"You going to."

"No. Donna and I are doing that thing for you."

"That can wait."

"It could end up waiting a longtime. Donna's weekends are pretty full."

"There's no hurry. Didn't Jessica tell you whenever they get there is fine?"

"I want to do it now. We've got it planned. If I don't do it now I may never do it."

"It's your call."

"Yes. It's my call."

 

~~~~~~~~

 

"So this is the project for Harvey?"

"Hi Eric. Funny seeing you here," Donna said with an unabashed sardonicism only she was capable of pulling off without malice.

"You know I work here, don't you?" Eric replied a bit confused.

Mike flashed her a _knock it off_ glare.

Using a one-sided curl of her lips she announced, "I'm in need of refreshment. Shall I bring anything back for either of you?"

Now Mike fully rolled his eyes at her to no effect. She was up off the floor of Harvey's office and brushing by the young Senior Partner standing just inside the door not actually waiting for a reply before leaving. She was moving fast and Eric wasn't quite fast enough to give her a wide berth.

"So you're packing up his albums?"

"Most of them. Taking home the ones that aren't duplicates. There's a few I'm switching out with what's at home. I promised him I'd take care of them and I've been putting it off."

"You have them all memorized?" He had heard of Mike's talent.

Mike finished sealing the cubed box before him with the rattling screech of a tape gun. Sitting back on his heels he huffed a light laugh and looked around at the stacks of boxes already packed and the stacks of albums still to be gone through, "I hadn't really thought about it, but I guess I have." He waved a short stack of papers stapled together, "I'm still using his list though."

"What are you doing with them? Storage?"

"He listed out which he wants home, which are to be switched out to keep his collection complete. The rest are being shipped out to Chicago."

"Chicago?"

"Harvey made arrangements to have them donated to the Chicago Blues Museum."

Eric was standing alongside the shelves looking, but not touching. His eye was drawn to the name Specter on an LP topping a stack. Mike had stood and followed the attorney's gaze.

Before Eric could ask Mike offered, "Harvey's dad. Musician. He was a jazzman."

"Sax?"

"Some sax. Mainly trumpet. That's the only one with his name on the cover. All the others he's listed on the back as a contributor."

"I assume this stack is going home with you."

Mike just smiled. Affirmative. He picked up a flattened cardboard from the sofa making short work of folding down and taping one side to create a new box. Looking at the next stack to be packed he noted, "It's called a blues museum, but apparently they're just as happy to get jazz too. They're not quite ready for them, but Jessica said I could ship them to her office. She'll have them go there to pick them up."

"That's Jessica Pearson?"

"One and the same," Mike was kneeling again beside a stack next to the coffee table.

"Heard a lot about her. Pretty impressive."

"You weren't here before she went to Chicago?"

"The week after."

"Were you with Rand, Kaldor & Zane?

"No. I was actually at a firm up in Boston."

Mike was checking off on the list as he slid albums into the box.

"May I help?" Eric offered.

Mike smiled, but lightly shook his head no.

Eric smiled back and slowly nodded. "I'm just going to...." jerking a thumb towards the door.

"Okay. See you later."

Mike retuned to his undertaking but could hear Donna in the hallway sounding a bit surprised, "You're not joining us?"

"No. I was just saying hello. I've got interrogatories to go through."

Hands on hips, she was back in the office, "If you had just said the word he would have helped."

"You getting tired already? It's only 10:30."

"No. But..."

"Because if you are, go ahead 'n go. I'll take care of it. Or if you have something else you want to get to..." He spun his wedding band with his thumb and pinkie, casting his eyes around the mess the office had become.

Donna watched the ring turn on his finger. Thoroughly chastised, though it wasn't his intent. She sighed before saying, "No sweetie. I'm all yours like I promised."

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Mike managed to have Ray stop at the dry cleaners not only to drop off his bundle but to pick it up again when it was done. But he never seemed to find the right time to call Wolf Camera about developing his film, much less have Ray drive by the shop on the way to or from work. The film rolls were still on the kitchen counter; although, they were migrating further and further from the walkway end and closer to no man's land. They were starting to become fixtures. Something unremarkable, overlooked, unseen.

"When are you going to get your film developed?"

"I don't know. One of these days."

"Aren't you itching to see what's on it?"

"Let's talk about something else, Harvey."

"You want to talk about Harvey? That's one of my favorite subjects!"

Mike rolled him to his back and put an end to the talking.

 

"When did they say your prints would be ready?" Eric was shaking a can of Starbucks Doubleshot as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

Mike was straightening up again after reaching for a Red Bull in the refrigerator. "I haven't actually gotten it there yet."

"Have you developed yours yet?"

"No," there was a bit of disappointment to his tone. "Good thing I didn't tell Mom about it."

Mike looked down to the can in his hand wishing there was a paper label he could pick at. "Maybe we..."

A smile was threatening in the corners of Eric's mouth, but he kept quiet.

Mike lifted his head but gazed off to his right. "Maybe we could get together to develop them after all."

Eric was no fool. He knew Mike was pushing boundaries by suggesting it. He put on his most contented lawyer face. The one that was soft and open, careful not to let the ear to ear grin he felt coming on take hold. He didn't want to scare Mike off. "I'd like that."

Mike looked at him now, a faint smile glancing across his face. "Decide when it would be convenient for you and just let me know."

Eric wanted to blurt out, _This Saturday, nine in the morning. If we take enough time we could go for dinner too_. Instead, he nodded once and said, "I'll stop by your office a little later. Let you know."

Mike said nothing. He only smiled lightly and nodded in return before turning on a heel and heading back to his office. As he walked down the hall he didn't notice Louis coming his way.

"What are you grinning about, wunderkind?"

"What? Nothing. It was just...."

"Is there something I need to know?" Louis pursed his lips, studying him closely.

"Not a thing."

"Excellent. Keep it up."

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Eric's apartment was similar to the condo in that one entered into a hallway. There was a pedestrian size doorway at the end that opened, unanticipated, into a vast, bright living space. The hallway entrance was where the similarities ended. It was markedly different from the condo in the warm caramel toned wooden floors, exposed bricks and woodwork that went on for days.

The tastefully decorated area was eclectic and felt far less deliberate than his and Harvey's home. There was an unhurried quality to the place. New blended effortlessly with old. The Corbusier lounge in the corner somehow didn't look misplaced with 1940's style floor lamp with whom it had been paired. The overstuffed upholstery didn't compete with the stark black and white cityscape photos scattered across the walls alongside original oil paintings. Here and there antiques punctuated the diverse furnishings.

"This is really nice. It feels .... homey. Comfortable."

"Thanks. It's in progress."

"Looks done to me," Mike joked.

"Put it this way. It's perpetually in progress. It's forever evolving. Though I must say, I may finally be settling in."

"And it's about time. He's been here for over four years now." It was the voice of a woman coming from somewhere out of sight. Stately and statuesque she made herself apparent stepping into view from an offshoot room.

"Mike, this is my sister Astrid. Astrid, Mike."

"So pleased to meet you, Mike." She strode forward exuding an elegance and confidence reminiscent of Jessica Pearson, Jessica had she been Nordic.

Mike extended his hand, "Nice to meet you as well." Mike noted the strong resemblance between the siblings. "Are you two twins?"

Astrid smiled warmly at him. "As a matter of fact yes we are." Then turning to her male doppelgänger, "You never mentioned there's a prettier version of you loose in New York?"

"It never came up, Astrid. Weren't you...?"

"Just on my way out? Yes I was, Bro." She didn't so much bend as hinge at her hips to grasp an autumnal flavored shawl wrap from the sofa. Draping it across her back, she flipped one end over a shoulder and announced, "Okay. I'm off like a prom dress. You two Ansel Adams enjoy yourselves." She patted Eric on the cheek as she passed through to the hall. "Mom's going to love her present."

"Goodbye, Astrid," Eric all but singsonged, annoyance dripping from each syllable.

He watched her as she followed the hallway to the door. Before opening it, all nobility fell away as she half crouched at the knees and mouthed, "Score!" Giving him a double thumbs up.

Eric grimaced at her and shooed her away with a swipe of his arm. She laughed large, head back, but silent as she swung out the door. It didn't matter how old they were, they would probably always be brats with each other.

In the meantime Mike had turned his focus to the paned windows on the opposite side of the room. Looking down, the surrounding buildings and the one in which he stood formed a courtyard with floral beds, a couple of trees, what from this height looked like a stone walk and a little patio complete with benches, table and chairs.

"Do you use the patio?"

Eric spun around from his sister just in the nick of time to plaster on a smile when Mike turned back to him. Still trying to brush his sibling's antics from his head he myna-ed, "Patio?"

Mike pointed out the window.

"Oh. Right. The patio. No. Well sometimes. Probably not as much as I should." Jeezus, he couldn't decide if he sounded more like Annie Hall or Alvy Singer.

"No offense to her, but how did your sister get a name like Astrid?"

"Hello." Eric lifted his hand to wave it about. "Eirik Arvid here."

Mike laughed, "Oh yeah. That's right."

"Gotta hand it to her. She didn't change it like me. She owns it."

"She's very pretty."

"She's a brat."

"But you're not."

"Never," Eric laughed.

"Is that what Astrid would say?"

"What Astrid thinks is inadmissible here." He smiled at Mike. Within seconds they realized they were considering each other, studying. Eric snapped out of it first and asked, "What about you? Any brothers or sisters?"

"No. I was an only child."

"So you grew up spoiled."

"I don't know if I'd say that."

"Can I get you something? I have coffee, juice. Picked up some Red Bull. There's beer...."

"It's 9:30 in the morning," Mike supplied.

"Milk?"

Mike couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Coffee sounds good."

 

Mike was impressed with the economical photo lab in a spare bedroom. The room was interior with no windows. Unassuming flashings were installed at the top and bottom of the door sealing away any vestiges of outside light. All of the equipment and supplies were neatly tucked away in the closet.

First they pulled out and set up two folding tables. Eric rolled out the enlarger situated on a dedicated stand with large locking casters. Trays and chemicals were produced from closet shelves. As Eric prepared the developing canister Mike handily plugged in a micro laptop and connected it to a scanner.

The lights were switched off and Mike was surrounded by a familiarity he had missed. It had been years since he carefully navigated around a pitch black darkroom. Digital cameras had supplanted the film camera. Knowledge of darkrooms and their procedures were rapidly fading with the newest generation of coming photographers. There had been a brief moment questioning if digital photography was even an art form, much as film photography in its infancy had been questioned. But as so many things in these fast changing times, digital was quickly accepted and adopted.

Time melted away as the two worked to process their respective rolls of negatives. It was going on noon when they finally had dried negative strips and had figured out the problem with the laptop freezing up. A basketful of profanities and one phone call to Benjamin fixed that issue right up. Eric still a little impressed Mike had the computer genius' personal mobile number on speed dial.

"Contact sheets?" Eric asked.

"Sure. Give me an idea where to start."

"Hold up a second. If I order now, I could have lunch delivered in an hour. Give us enough time to do the contacts and we can look over 'em while we eat, eh?"

"Careful. Your Weejun's showing again."

"Eh?" Eric wasn't following him.

Mike laughed to himself with the second, "Eh?" but continued, "Lunch sounds good."

"There's anything you could want nearby: Chinese, Thai, Indian, Moroccan, English pub, Latin, burgers, Mexican, Country French, Northern Italian, pizza..."

"Whoa, whoa. I'm not finicky. Something simple suits me."

"Pizza?"

"Pizza's perfect."

"You ever try it with cheese rolled into the crust?"

Mike had to consciously stop himself from mouthing, "I love you," at Erin's back as he slipped from the room to place the order. He felt a pang in his chest and silently sent an apology to Harvey. _Didn't mean it, Batman. Just goofing around_. He busied himself measuring developer, fixer, stop bath, and water into shallow basins. He finished just as Eric returned.

"For the sake of expediency, maybe you should do the contact sheets," Mike suggested.

An hour later they were at the dining table eating pizza and examining their sheets with magnifying loupes.

"I was surprised to meet your sister here."

"She's nosey. She called last night to see if I wanted to go to an exhibit. Told her I had plans and she shows up here at eight o'clock in the morning."

"What I meant was I thought your family was in Minnesota."

"We haven't lived there in years. Astrid is here with me and Mom and Dad are north of Boston. Little town called Ipswich."

"When you said your mom was at your place, I was thinking your parents were in town visiting. You know, from out-of-state. Way out-of-state. The Midwest."

"Oh," Eric huffed a laugh. "No. She hops the puddle jumper whenever the fancy strikes her. Flies down for a day of shopping. Visits us. She usually spends the night here."

"Your father?"

"He comes a couple of times a year, but he's pretty busy riding."

"Riding?" Mike was lost.

Another chuckle, "He took up riding like fifteen years ago."

"Riding what? Motorcycles?"

"Horses." He gave it a moment to sink in picking at the mushrooms on a piece of pie. "Astrid took lessons when she was a teenager. Dad would take her every weekend. After he retired he went to the stable she rode at and started taking lessons himself. He's obsessed now. They live in the middle of Massachusetts' hunt country. He joined Myopia Hunt Club. Keeps two field hunters there, Rob and Roy."

"What does he hunt?"

"Fox. Well not actual fox. Myopia is a drag hunt." He anticipated Mike's question. "Someone rides out early morning and drags a scented bag around the countryside. The hounds follow the scent and the field, those are the horses and riders, follow the hounds. He hunts with the club all fall and rides along for hound exercises all spring and summer. Stomps around on foot in the snow all winter. He's fully immersed in it. Makes Christmas gifts easy, though. Just get him something for 'the boys,' Rob and Roy," he said in an aside over the frames of his glasses, "...and he's a happy man."

He took a bite of pizza and a slug of Coke before adding, "We broke into two teams. Astrid and Dad, Mom and me. So Mom spends more time with me when she's down here and my sister flies up to hunt and just ride with Dad." Another sip of Coke and he caught himself. "That's probably more than you ever wanted to know and I'm behaving like a bore."

"That's not true," Mike protested.

"Your turn. No siblings. What about your parents?"

"Gone. They died when I was eleven."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize," Eric fumbled. "Here I am going on."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but there's nothing to be sorry for." Mike shook his head lightly. As he raised his can up for a drink he said, "Thirty years. Almost thirty-one. Happened a long time ago."

"Did you live with relatives?"

"My grandmother. She was babysitting the night they died. After she told me what happened I went home with her the next day and that's where I stayed."

"Accident?"

"Yeah. Drunk driver."

Eric took in and let out a deep breath as the enormity of it settled around him. "So you and your grandmother did alright."

"Oh. You know. Not bad. She had retired when this all happened and had to go back to work. I was a jerk and didn't fully comprehend what that meant. Things were tight from then on out. But I'll tell you. I adored my Grammy. She wasn't your typical cookie baking, scarf knitting gramma. She had mischief in her soul." Mike was smiling at the memory.

"So she's not still alive?"

"No. She's been gone .... wow, ten years now. I had started working for Harvey and was making some decent money. She had been in senior living, but I had the bright idea to buy a condo for her. Set her up with a nurse and maid, you know? But she up and died before she could move in. Before I even told her about it."

"You've had a lot of loss."

"Yeah, well, that's life."

"Here I am going on about my family." He remembered his quip about Mike being a spoiled only child and felt like a jerk. "What about Harvey's family?"

"Harvey's dad, the musician, he's been gone for a long time now. Harvey and his mom were estranged for many years, but back in '16 they made peace. A grudging peace. He has a younger brother who's married with kids. He hadn't had much contact with them either until the bridges were built with his mom.

"I don't have much to do with them. Besides the fact his mom wasn't much of a mom or role model and his brother leached money off of him to start his business then dropped him like a hot potato, I've never been particularly fond of either of them. They laid this terrible guilt trip on him. Made him feel like a nothing piece of shit because he had stayed away.

"When he was a teenager his mother behaved like one and expected him to be adult about it. Then as an adult when he stayed away for self preservation she accused him of behaving like a child. They made this huge production one weekend about what a horrible son and brother he was and Harvey bought it. It was hard to watch.

"They're not huge fans of mine for that matter. Made it pretty obvious that to them Harvey being bi meant he would settle down with a woman after he got the gay out of his system. Downright disappointed with his choice for a spouse. Really the only one of the bunch I can stand being around is his mother's husband. But fuck this. No need to be so maudlin. I think I know which shots I'd like to work on. And I want to scan everything so I can print up whatever at home."

"Then let's get to it. Let me just throw the box away. Need another drink?"

"Another Coke would be good."

"Comin' up." Eric had the table bussed and was heading for the kitchen in no time.

In the glow of the safelight Eric observed how masterfully Mike was able to manipulate an image. He thought of his use of exposure via the enlarger and the use of his hands to shade the burning of light onto the photo paper, creating high contrasts as nothing short of the work of an artist. One particular finished product was of the path they had both been so enamored of. The path was beautifully lined with a carpet of autumn leaves on either side beneath two lines of trees growing up and inward, as if made of two lines of soldiers, swords crossed overhead.

Mike waved his hand over the path and had only lightly shadowed the outer edges, avoiding the lower corners with his hands as the image was transferred to the paper. The reduced exposure to the center of the path brightening it, giving it an ethereal presence. But what really stood out to him was, though they had both chosen this same location to develop by hand, Mike had used that artist's eye of his from the start, from the initial selection. While the shot Eric used to develop was symmetrical, the one Mike chose was slightly off center. Taken a step or two to the right. It was that smallest detail that transformed Mike's image from really nice, like Eric's, to transcendental.

 

The equipment had again been stowed, the basins washed, all negatives scanned. Eric had extra negative sleeves Mike insisted he would replace with Eric insisting just as vehemently he was to do no such thing. Mike saying it was the least he could do for the use of equipment and chemicals, not to mention lunch. Eric laughed saying next time Mike could buy lunch and that's when Mike bristled.

There wasn't going to be a next time. This wasn't going to turn into a regular "thing." It wasn't like Mike was free to just plan .... whatever this is. His mind scolded him for almost slipping into the groove. What the hell is a married man doing even contemplating the possibility?

"I really appreciate today, but I need to go. I'll be sure to replace the sleeves and paper. I need to go now." He was close to babbling as he reached the door at the far end of the hall. It felt like Eric was closing in and he needed to be out of there. He needed to be home. In the elevator down he could only think of needing to be in his and Harvey's home. It's where he belonged. It's where his reflexes guided him.

 

~~~~~~~~


	3. Chapter 3

"Your picture is beautiful."

"Thanks."

"Will you frame it?"

"I don't know about that."

"It needs to be framed. It's beautiful, like you.

Mike rolled his eyes.

"Anyone else would have preened at that or dished out the false modesty, but not you. You are so beautiful to me Mike. You have no clue how much I love you."

Mike could only smile when he heard those words. They had a way of rendering him speechless. His chin dipped as his eyes focused down. When he again lifted his gaze he was confused. Looking around them he asked, "How did we end up here, Harvey?"

"I need to go. I want to get this test over with."

They were at the hospital, suddenly standing in the hall under the sign reading Nuclear Medicine.

"I'd like to be there to hold your hand."

"I'd like you to be too. You can't come with me, though. Something I have to do alone."

Mike nodded, not liking this one bit.

"Go down to the sandwich shop. Get a Starbucks or something. You never ate breakfast, did you?"

"You know? I think I'll do that. How long are you going to be? When should I come back up?"

"I have no idea. I'll come down to you."

"Okay. But Harvey. Call me if you need me."

That smile reached to his eyes making his lower lashes dance upward. God he loved this man. This husband of his. "I will. I promise."

Mike's dream then took him to their home. Took him to the evening he walked in after a dinner meeting to find Harvey sitting on the sofa, head in hands, glass of scotch now only melting ice cubes.

"Harvey? What's going on? Did something happen?"

"Sit here, Mike. I have to tell you something."

 

~~~~~~~~

 

"Good morning Eric. How's our own Fotomat today?" Donna quirked an eyebrow as she shook her can of whip cream to top off her coffee.

"So you know about Mike and I performing some photographic magic, eh? Well Mike more so than me. He's extremely talented." He thought about that for a moment. "He's really something. But you probably know that without being told."

"I know a lot of things. Some of them may surprise you."

"So I've gathered. How do you do it?"

"Oh honey, haven't you heard? I'm Donna."

"What do you know this morning?"

"I happen to possess the knowledge there is a certain Senior Partner currently at his desk avoiding eye contact with me. What I don't know is if he can't bring himself to mention this weekend or if he is still savoring this past weekend before he's forced to share with others."

It suddenly wasn't fun anymore. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you the former is far closer than the latter. At least from where I'm standing. Started out great. Then." He slid into a resigned grimace. "Wish I had a better story to tell." He held his coffee mug up in a sad salute, "Have a good day, Donna. I should get to it."

"Eric." When he turned back to her she said, "He was so tired and overwhelmed for so long, he's forgotten what it's like not to be. How to stop struggling and let good things come to him."

 

"Why won't you let him in?"

"What are you talking about, Donna?"

"Why are shutting him out?"

"Shutting whom out?"

"The Viking down the hall."

"I don't think all Norwegians were Vikings."

"So you know exactly who I'm talking about."

"Donna, I have work to do. Don't you?"

"Yes, but my work _here_ is far from done." With that she stood from the chair she had perched in. Walking out the door she passed the work station that had been hers for so many years, and now, so long ago.

Mike spun his chair around to gaze out the wide expanse of glass. He had a feeling of déjà vu. How many times had he walked unannounced into this office to find the previous inhabitant gazing out these same windows.

 

His mind skipped to his handsome husband sitting up cross-legged in his hospital bed, wearing a standard issue blue and white hospital gown of indeterminate pattern. He was typing with his right hand and making a grabby gesture with his left.

"Did you bring the files?"

"Of course I brought the files."

"Give 'em here." More grabby hands.

"Ask nicely and perhaps kiss the messenger."

Harvey huffed out a light breath, chastised. "Come here, Rookie." His fingers spread through the short hair along the back of Mike's head as he bestowed a kiss.

Without moving away Mike informed him, "You know I'm not a rookie anymore, right?"

Harvey responded low, "You'll always be a rookie to me. That alright with you?"

"Absolutely. Kiss me again."

"With pleasure."

Mike shrugged out of his jacket before opening his briefcase. Harvey did a double take as he saw those long back muscles move beneath the Egyptian cotton shirting. The object of his scrutiny flashed a peek at him out of the corner of his eye. "What are you looking at?"

"What do you think I'm looking at? Don't you ever look in a mirror? See what I see?

"You have that whole indignant thing down. Do you know that?"

"Just give me the files, will you?"

"Why did you have me lug these down here? You're having surgery in the morning." He finally turned the coveted folders over to Harvey.

"Have some things I want to get a start on. I don't want to go back to a desk piled high with more shit than I have a shovel for."

"What a horrible expression. Where'd you hear that?"

"It's of my own making."

"You should stick to the tried and true." This earned him a glare.

"That's not as effective when I know for a fact your ass is hanging out of the back of that thing you're wearing."

"Shut up."

"You shut up. That the best you can do? They start prepping you early?"

With the glare nor beratement working for him Harvey went with avoidance. He ignored Mike.

"You know Harvey, between Louis, Katrina and me, we won't let your cases fall by the wayside."

"I need my work."

Mike crossed the expanse between them and bent to leave a kiss on the crown of his head. "You work. I'm going to grab a sandwich. Be back within the hour."

 

The day seemed to move timelessly, as though Mike was enshrouded in a fog. He had to force his overactive mind to concentrate on the problem at hand. How to meld these disparate managerial styles into something cohesive and usable by all parties. Harvey would chide him for concerning himself with the proper fit. "You're not a matchmaker. You're a Justice of the Peace."

He called it quits early, packing his briefcase at 6:00 on the dot. He glanced at a photo of Harvey on his desk. "I don't want to hear it. I'm going home."

The elevator door opened as he heard his name called.

"Is this about work, Donna?"

"No."

She was making a bee-line for him looking determined and daring him to ignore her.

He called her on it and stepped into the car. He could hear her shoes on the floor just outside the closing door. Breathing a sigh of relief he leaned back on the railing that formed a semicircle around the elevator car. He felt free and guilty at the same time.

He held his briefcase to his chest like a lawyer's version of a teddy bear. Staring at the floor he road the car down. Upon reaching the lobby he was appreciative there were no stops at other floors along the way.

His eyes were down as he merged with riders of another car that appeared to have stopped repeatedly judging by the flow of people exiting it. Reaching for a door another hand landed there before his. He looked up as did the other man. He found himself looking straight into Eric's eyes.

Eric nodded, "Mike."

Mike opened his mouth to acknowledge but was shoved from behind by someone a little too earnest in their efforts to leave the building. He was completely caught off guard and caught off balance. Eric's right arm went around him to stop the forward motion threatening to send them both to the floor. Hand still on the door he push it open at the same time guiding Mike outside where there was more room for the quitting time crowd to disperse.

"You okay?" Eric was leaning forward, craning slightly to see Mike's face which still appeared a bit stunned.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He looked back at the door then at the people around as though he would be able to pinpoint the perpetrator. Eric still had a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks. I'm good. Kinda startled me more than anything. Sorry 'bout that." He forced an apologetic smile.

Eric just looked at him the corners of his mouth faintly curling. He took a breath for courage, "You have plans for dinner?"

"No. I mean I was heading home. I'm going home." He couldn't even look the other man in the eye.

Eric let out the breath he'd been holding, disappointed, finally resigned. "You have a good night."

"Thanks. You too. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Probably not. I've got court in the morning. Then I'll be with the client all afternoon."

"Well, good luck in court." It sounded as lame to his own ears as he thought it must have to Eric.

Eric didn't even respond. Just turned and walked away.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Mike cracked a beer and flopped into one of the side chairs. The gas fireplace roared away with its ceramic logs aglow. He thought of Harvey's inability to keep his hands to himself. He thought of sitting where he was currently planted, seeing his reflection in the night-mirrored floor to ceiling windows. He would watch Harvey's approach yet still feel a body-long tingle as a hand was placed on his neck closely followed by a kiss to his head or cheek. A whisper in his ear, "You are so beautiful to me Mike." The man could be an insatiable romantic.

His eyes drifted to the leather sofa that defined the living room from the breakfast and kitchen area of this open space. He pictured Harvey there. Sheets of paper scattered about with file folders tumbling to the floor. Computer on his lap, glass of wine at hand.

He considered the frustration he felt the night he had outlined the entire mix of errors piled atop each other that brought the young couple to the law clinic and the rock and hard place Mike saw himself wedged between.

He recalled blurting out, "Stay the course. That's the best advice you can give me?!"

"What more do you want from me, Mike? Honestly. You don't need my advice anymore. You're becoming better at this than I ever was. This isn't about experience. It's about legwork and backtracking. It's about remembering what you've covered and what is still ahead."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No!" Harvey couldn't contain all of his chuckle. He stood from the sofa only to kneel before Mike in the chair. "Mike, you said it yourself. You're not a rookie anymore. Also means you're not a puppy anymore. You run with the big dogs now and you are perfectly capable of keeping up. And with that beautiful brain of yours, I see you pulling ahead. I see you outrunning us all. You just need faith in yourself to do it."

The image changed then and he saw Harvey curled in a ball covered in blankets, a bucket alongside the sofa. He was pale and mostly bald. He was weak and bleary eyed, knocked to his knees by the chemo. He thought of the effort it took for him to move around the condo. The bone pain he experienced a debilitating side effect.

He thought of Lily and Marcus showing up to tell Mike how he wasn't doing "it" right. Didn't matter what "it" was, Mike was incompetent. He overfilled Harvey's water glass. He didn't fluff Harvey's pillows. Harvey didn't want to watch Star Trek. Where did he get such a foolish idea? He must not have understood the doctors correctly. It wasn't possible Harvey would need to take medications, especially narcotics, so many times in a day. Harvey really needed to eat more. He wasn't throwing up his food because it was forced on him, it was because Mike was upsetting him by being so disagreeable all the time.

There was one thing he was positive he had done correctly though. After thumbing away a tear winding its way down Harvey's temple as he lay in bed he said, "This isn't right. You need peace and quiet. I'll take care of it. Okay?"

Harvey had nodded, not speaking. Afraid of how he may sound. Certain his voice would break.

Mike went out to the living room, planted himself with arms crossed in front of his in-laws and thanked them for coming. He was sorry they needed to cut their stay short, but he understood they only had Harvey's best interests in mind. He asked if they would like him to call Harvey's driver to take them to the airport or bus station, their choice. Marcus said they had a car parked in the building's garage. They had told the concierge they would be visiting for a week. Mike said he was sorry the visit only lasted three days, but here's your hat, what's your hurry?

Marcus was bewildered. Lily was indignant. Mike wasn't backing down because Harvey was in the bedroom in tears from the stress.

Harvey's guilt over disappointing his family sent him spiraling. He was so very sick and with it, emotional. It took Mike hours to comfort him and settle him enough to sleep, but the stress had left a scar. They took one of their ambulance rides to the ER that night, actually in the early morning hours. Mike having exhausted his pain relief options, knowing Harvey needed morphine to bring it under control.

 

Two days later Mike had returned to Harvey's room after taking a walk to stretch out the stiffness that had set in his bones. He had sat in the chair beside the bed and just swiped his phone when he saw Harvey's eyes flutter.

"Hey. I didn't know you were awake."

Harvey was on his side, shoulder exposed. Mike pulled the sheet and blanket up to cover him, tuck him in. He petted his head before kissing his temple. He almost didn't catch it having been said so low, "I want to go home."

Mike's first reaction was to say he needed the care he could only receive in the hospital. But why did he need that care? They would monitor and poke and prod and to what end? To make Harvey better? Mike, in less than a second came to an understanding he didn't want to accept, but knew he had to. One he had kept at bay. Harvey wasn't going to get better.

He petted his forehead and hair, saying just as low, "Okay. I'll tell the doctor. I'll make it happen."

 

Harvey dozed again waking to the sound of angry, overly loud whispers just outside the door. One voice was Mike's. "I don't give a damn. He wants to go home. He's going home. There is nothing you can do to stop it."

"I can get a court order to block you from moving him."

Harvey heard himself, his words coming from Mike. "What did you just say to me? You think you can go to court and prevail when I will rain an entire army of lawyers from Specter-Litt down on you and this hospital?" There was a pause then firm and sure, "I'm taking him home. You can work with me to ensure we have everything we need or you can work against me in providing the best care for him there. Either way, I'm taking him home."

"Alright. I will note it that I adamantly oppose this and have forcefully advise against it. But, you're his POA. It's your call."

"Yes. It's my call."

"Mike." It was Harvey.

"Are we done here, doctor?"

"Yes. For now."

"Mike."

He was at Harvey's side leaning down, fingers splayed over the knit cap Harvey wore to keep warm now most of his hair was gone. "I'm here. You okay?"

"When we get home remind me to give you my cape."

"What?"

"Time for Batman to pass his cape on to Robin."

"Are you saying I'm your hero?"

"Something like that."

Mike ran the backs of his fingers along the sunken temple, his eyes filling, ready to breach. "May I lay down with you?"

"As you wish."

"Seriously? A minute ago I was a superhero, now I'm a princess?"

"Look. If I had wanted a princess, you're the last person I would have married." He settled his head in it's reserved spot on Mike's chest, just below his shoulder.

They returned home late the following day. It had given the hospice plenty of time to meet with Donna to deliver a hospital bed, various bits of equipment and set up the bedroom for Harvey's return. After meeting with the nursing staff and counselors Mike was left alone with a bedpan, urinal, pills, salves, morphine drops, instructions, phone numbers, a pamphlet titled A Caregiver's Guide to Hospice, and his dying husband.

 

They set into a routine of visiting nurse practitioners, caregivers from a recommended service, watching movies and Harvey's newest love, Mike reading to him. Donna was a regular visitor and Jessica had flown out for a weekend. Mike called Marcus asking if he and Lily would like to make a daytrip to visit while ensuring it was understood the spare bedroom was not available and there would not be a repeat of the previous visit.

Harvey was failing and Mike vacillated between wanting him to hang on and wishing he could close his eyes and be free of the pain. It was so important for Harvey to be home, Mike couldn't have been more surprised when Donna came out to the kitchen after a visit to say Harvey wanted to go to the hospital or the brick and mortar hospice.

Mike went to him only to see him sweating and pale. He was having difficulty breathing. The hospice nurse was on the phone and apparently the decision was made that they could not get what Harvey needed quickly nor was there a bed available at the hospice facility. An ambulance should be called.

 

Harvey had been in the hospital closing in on day three. There had been talk of sending him home or to a hospice care facility. Mike watched as a nurse engaged the bed's scale function then tapped on the number pad of her mobile desk console. Her fingers moved rapidly landing on three digits. 1-2-4. His eyes focused back on Harvey and threatened to spring forth in tears.

Six foot tall and one hundred twenty-four pounds. Harvey's cheekbones lay sharp and hard beneath his skin. Mike would stare in sickened fascination at Harvey's muscles, ligaments and tendons as they moved under the skin, no fat left to camouflage their workings. Skin ghostly pale accentuated by the shadowed hollows of his eyes which were currently closed while the man slept.

It seemed his sleep time had increased exponentially in the past few days. His face no longer a mask of peace. Slumber had been an escape from the now unyielding pain of the cancer playing havoc throughout his body. But not anymore. Mike could see the distress present there.

He knew Harvey was lying to him when he said sleep still pushed the pain away as it had before. Or maybe he wasn't lying. Maybe in his few waking hours when he was so often confused and lost he said it was a release out of habit rather than knowledge.

He had stopped eating. Mike held the skeletal hand gently in his own two. One supported Harvey's palm, the other lay on top. Out from under the blankets it was chilled on its own. It stole heat from his greedily. Oftentimes Mike returned it under the covers to rewarm his hands in his armpits before once again fishing it out for the contact he so desperately craved.

He habitually stroked his thumb along Harvey's left ring finger, remembering the sensation of his own digit rising and falling over the wedding ring that once was entrusted there. If he closed his eyes he could take himself back to their bed in the penthouse in the clouds. He could recreate in his mind lying on his back with Harvey's head nestled in the divot formed below his collarbone alongside the ball of his shoulder.

For a man who led his life so cocksure, Harvey certainly yearned for comfort and affection. It was immediately apparent the first night they spent together. Harvey had disappeared into the bath returning with a dampen washcloth. He carefully wiped Mike, finishing with a smile before placing a quiet kiss to his forehead. Mike hadn't a chance to reposition upon Harvey's return as he climbed under the sheet and comforter to glom onto him. Both arms worked around Mike's waist and his head rested in what would become a favored place in the upper corner of Mike's chest.

After their marriage as they lay in bed, Mike would cover Harvey's hand with his own as it rested in the scattered hair of his chest. He would finger Harvey's ring, often turning it on the finger. His husband never overtly protested, but would cup the side of his face as he placed a kiss on the opposite whispering, "Get some sleep, Rookie."

And here he sat bedside fingering Harvey's ring finger, remembering when the symbol of their devotion resided there. Before it had grown too large. Before Harvey had one day during the previous hospital stay handed it to him saying it should be returned home so as not to be lost.

He sat bedside because he could no longer sit on the bed or lie beside Harvey to hold him. The movements of the bed to settle, be it sitting or lying alongside, were too painful for Harvey to endure. So he now sat with his legs cramped along lowered bed rails holding the hand of the man who had been his savior, mentor, harshest critic, champion, lover and best friend.

 

Harvey had been scheduled to return home. Mike waited on their friend to help him carry the assorted bags of items, cards and flowers while the man himself would be transported via ambulance. Donna walked in the door with her phone in hand. It was set on vibrate and was buzzing as she looked down at the caller ID. She noted Mike sitting alongside Harvey in the bedside chair holding his hand. She tapped the screen and brought the device to her ear. "Jessica!" Then caught herself, saying more quietly as she turned to walk back out the door, "I was just walking in his room..."

When Donna reappeared a few minutes later her head was down as she spoke, digging through her handbag, "That was Jessica. She said she had to walk out of a meeting because she had such an urge to call. Your phone's turned off? Anyhow she tried me on a hunch. Told her I was just walking in and...."

Mike had moved from the chair and now sat on the bed at Harvey's hip, bent forward holding a withered hand to his cheek.

"Oh Mike," she whispered.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

"Because there's a hole inside of me. That's why." He then added lowly, "Only one person can fill it. It's shaped like him."

"Mike'" she began gently. "Harvey's not coming back. He's gone."

"I don't want him to be," Mike whispered.

"Me neither, kiddo. But Mike, before he left us he asked me to watch over you. He asked me, Louis, Ray. He even asked Jessica to keep tabs on you long distance."

Donna took his hand. "Mike, I loved Harvey most of my adult life. It never worked out for us. Honestly, it broke my heart each time I saw someone new stroll into his life. For as fierce as he was in his career, he was just as much of a pushover when it came to romantic relationships. It was painful to watch him be manipulated.

"I knew for a fact I was the only one who understood him. I was the only one who wouldn't take advantage of his generosity. I was the only one who would love him as much as he should be. I needed to be that person." She blinked her eyes once, three times. "The thing that I always overlooked was what _Harvey_ needed most. You know as well as I do, no matter what Harvey did, everyone loved him. Even if they hated him, they loved him for his bombasticy. But what Harvey needed was someone who loved him not because of it, but despite it. And that was you.

"After the two of you got together, I didn't feel I had lost out again. I thought things were as they should be. It didn't hurt to see you and him together. It didn't tear at me to see the way he looked at you. How it _did_ feel was peaceful. I realized I loved Harvey enough to let him go to the person he was meant to be with. That made me question what this torch was that I had carried for so many years. Looking at it closely, things were as they should be and I was able to give myself permission to move on."

Mike's gaze was on the lace of his shoe, but he heard every word.

"Mike. Sweetie. You need to give yourself permission to move on. You know he's crazy about you."

"It wouldn't be fair to Eric."

"Because you'll always love Harvey?"

"Of course." He sat up straighter. "You ever see A Man and a Woman?"

Donna nodded, running through her head how the film could relate as Mike continued, "She couldn't let go. I can't either."

"But Mike, he also understood her husband would be frozen in time. 'He would always be a hell of a guy.'" She quirked her fingers in air quotes. "But he was also willing to accept that about her. So he raced her train from Deauville to Paris to be on the platform when she stepped off."

Reflexively Mike squirmed.

"Honey, Eric has been chasing your train. It's time for you to get off."

Mike let out a breath he'd been holding for too long. "I dream about Harvey almost every night. He still lives with me. He's still a part of me."

"And he always will be." She decided to break a trust. Harvey hadn't wanted her to tell him, but he needed to hear. "You know when he faltered, toward the end? He was insisting on going to the hospital or to the hospice facility? Remember me coming out to tell you?"

"Like it was yesterday." His eyes were welling.

"He told me he changed his mind about dying at home. He said he didn't want to die where you had to keep living. He said he wouldn't be able to rest knowing he died in the room where he so loved you." She gave him time to absorb. "He did that for you. He did that so you could continue living after he was gone. He wanted nothing more than for you to pick up your life again. You must know that."

 

~~~~~~~~

 

"Mike, you need to let me go."

"No. Why would you even say that?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. You need to get back to living your life." He was restored as he always was during these talks. His hair was again thick and lush. An incredibly sexy, in Mike's opinion, smattering of grey at the temples. His eyes were no longer flat and dull. His skin was supple and lightly tanned. He looked like the healthy 49-year-old he never was able to be in life.

"My life was meant to be lived with you. We were meant to be at each other's side. You know as well I do it was fate that put me in that hotel, that day, to meet you."

"Our paths came together then split again, Rookie. You couldn't come with me on mine. You have to find a new path to follow."

"I don't want a new path."

"It's there waiting for you. Pretty as a picture." He glanced at the photo from the park, now framed and ensconced on the bookcase.

"I don't want to forget you."

"You won't. After all, I am unforgettable." That smile melted Mike. The curls in the corners of his mouth. The crinkle around the corners of his eyes....

He snapped awake.

Checking the time he found it was still relatively early, 8:45 on a Friday night.

 

"Hi Eric. It's Mike."

"Hey." He sounded concerned. "What's going on?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to get together. Do something tomorrow."

"Sure. Have anything in mind? There's a lot of galleries here. A photographer is having an exhibit right down the street from me."

"Okay. I'd like that. Maybe dinner after," surprising himself with how easy this was.

He could hear the smile in Eric's voice as he said, "Dinner sounds perfect."

 

 

**Thank you for reading.**

 


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